Halley (10 page)

Money!

Dropping to her knees, Halley jerked out the book box. The books were no longer stacked. They were jumbled helter-skelter. The cover of one was ripped loose at the spine, and another hung over the side of the box. Heart racing, Halley threw out books until she found her diary. The clasp was torn loose and the cover was open. It was empty. Her money was gone. It had been there that morning, and now it was gone.

Grabbing up the diary, Halley raced back to the kitchen. “My money!” she cried. “All I saved is gone.”

“I needed it,” Pa Franklin said. “Things like doctors don’t come free. Barbed wire don’t come free. And bags of curing salt ain’t handed out for nothing.”

“You took my money?” Anger filled Halley’s chest. This was worse than anything he had done. Worse than reading her letters. Worse than making her miss school. “You stole my money.”

“Halley!” Kate said, but Halley ignored her. She barely heard her.

“I didn’t steal nothing, young lady,” Pa Franklin said. “But what I’d like to know is how you come by that much money to begin with.”

“Tufting and gathering ginseng with Garnetta Miller,” Halley said, “and it’s my money. Mine and Mama’s and Robbie’s. It wasn’t yours, and we don’t owe you anything. Mama pays you for our keep, and I work here every day.”

“And you
still
owe me,” he said.

Halley wanted to hit him. Instead, she lurched toward the front door, then stopped. “You’ll not take any more money from me because I won’t have any. I’ll not tuft anymore. I’ll not pick cotton. I’ll not do anything for pay as long as I live in your house.”

Throwing the door open, Halley ran outside into the freezing wind. Racing through the dogtrot, she almost fell over Goliath, who stood shivering next to the water shelf. The dog ran with her around the house, and when she opened the cellar door he darted down the stairs ahead of her. Only when she was huddled in a dark corner between the dog and a pile of sweet potatoes did Halley give way to tears.

11. Gid’s Big News

When Halley returned to the kitchen near dark, Pa Franklin ordered her to continue tufting spreads. She ignored him. Later, in the far room Kate said, “Give in, Halley. We have to get along with Pa—and I’ve got to have some peace. Besides, the Bible says . . .”

“The Bible never said you had to let people walk all over you,” Halley replied. “If
you
say I have to tuft, I’ll do it, but nobody can make me do it right. And if I don’t do it right, I don’t get paid. If I keep doing it wrong, Mr. Bonner won’t give me any more work, no matter what Pa Franklin says.”

“Pa will punish you,” Kate warned.

“What else can he do to me? I already work all the time. I wash, I iron, I cook, I clean, and I’m not allowed to go to school. He can’t stand to see me read, and if he
allowed
it, I wouldn’t have time. Now, on top of all else, he stole my money. What else can he do—kill me?”

Kate said no more. For the next few days the problem was delayed by hog killing. Even though several neighbors helped, there was still daylight-to-dark work for Halley. Kate helped each night when she got home from the mill. With instructions from Ma Franklin, who frequently sat in the rocker now, Halley fried the pork trimmings and strained the fat into lard cans. The cracklins left in the straining cloth, she put into jars to save for baking into cornbread and making soap.

Finally, on Friday, the last of the sausage was mixed and fried and packed in a crock and covered with grease. With Ma Franklin giving directions, the hog’s head had been boiled and deboned, mixed with pepper, sage, and savory, and thickened with cornmeal and flour to make souse meat. It was packed into loaf pans and stored in the smokehouse along with the crock of sausage. The shoulders, middlings, and hams were out in the smokehouse too, packed in salt.

“We’re fixed for meat,” Ma Franklin said with satisfaction when it was all finished. “I appreciate all the hard work you done, Halley.”

Halley was astonished, as much for the use of her name as the thanks.

Pa Franklin heard the comment but said nothing. That was fine with Halley. She neither expected or wanted thanks from him. All week while working with the meat Halley had thought of ways to escape. There was none except the solution suggested by Dimple—finding someone willing, and getting married. But even if there was a good match for her out there, how could she go off and leave Robbie? And, although she stayed angry with her mother a good bit of the time, she would feel guilty leaving Kate, too. To get married, she would need someone like Tom Belcher, Bootsie’s new brother-in-law, someone willing to take on an entire family. Only an old man like Tom would be willing to do that.

Late in the day Halley was scrubbing the kitchen table to remove the last of the grease from the oilcloth when Robbie returned from searching for Sukie. His cheeks were red from the cold. “Found her and brought her to the barn,” he said.

“Close the door, child,” Ma Franklin told him, pulling her quilt closer.

“I seen Mama coming,” Robbie said. Jamming a hand into his pocket, he produced a crumpled letter and handed it to his grandfather. “You got a letter.”

Pa Franklin studied the envelope as if looking for a message on the outside. Halley tried to see it too, just in case Garnetta or Dimple had forgotten her instructions about sending any mail in care of Clarice.

Pa Franklin relieved her concerns. “About time Gid wrote.”

Kate opened the door and a blast of cold wind came in with her. Lint flew from her clothing and her hair. Even after the long walk home in the wind she still needed brushing. Any anger Halley felt melted, at least temporarily, at the sight of her mother’s thinness, which was obvious through all the layers of sweaters and coats. The anger was replaced with fear. What if something happened to Kate? Now that the money was gone, Halley and Robbie would have nothing saved. Whatever happened, they would be completely at Pa Franklin’s mercy.

“We got a letter from Gid,” Ma Franklin said to Kate. “Tell us what the boy says, Webb.”

Unhurriedly, Pa Franklin slit the envelope with his pocket knife. “I can answer that ahead of time. He’s going to tell about more foolishment.” He drew out the letter and slowly unfolded it. Then he stopped and cleaned his glasses on his handkerchief. “Foolishment is the main thing they study in that CCC.” He put on his glasses and waved the letter toward his wife. “Mark my words, Old Woman, the CCC’ll be Gid’s ruination.”

Ma Franklin leaned forward, grasping the rocker arms with her vein-roped hands. “What does he
say
, Webb?”

Kate did not seem greatly interested. She went to the mantel, got the hair brush, and headed back toward the door.

Halley put out a hand, signaling
wait
.

Pa Franklin squinted at the letter and his face went red. “What?” he bellowed. “Gid’s getting married! He can’t do that. They’ll throw him out and stop our check.”

“Do we know the girl?” Ma Franklin asked.

Pa Franklin nodded. “We know her all right. It’s the Hawkins girl. Bootsie.” He said the name with distaste.

Halley felt a wave of relief that Bootsie would be married when the baby came. Then another thought came. Did Gid know about the baby? Surely not, but it really wasn’t fair if he married Bootsie
not
knowing.

“Is Bootsie that girl that smokes cigarettes?” Robbie asked.

“Not any more,” Kate said. “Bootsie says she’s quit.”

Pa Franklin grunted. “People can
claim
anything.”

“I never see her with cigarettes at the mill these days.”

Pa Franklin grunted again.

Ma Franklin sighed. “I was still hoping it’d be Clarice Calvin that Gid ended up with.”

“That horse left the barn a good while back,” Halley couldn’t resist saying. “Clarice is keeping company with that feed and seed man. He gave her a ring, and Mrs. Calvin says it looks like a match.”

“
Naturally
,” Pa Franklin said. “Gid’ll let some other man run off with the best-fixed girl in the county while he hitches up with the very one he needs to run from.” He sighed and read on. “He
thinks
he’s gonna keep it a secret that they’re married, so’s he can stay in the CCC until he’s able to get a job lined up somewheres.”

“Nobody will hear it from me or my young’uns,” Kate said and handed the brush to Halley. Still Halley hung back.

Pa Franklin threw the letter on the table and his wife reached for it. There was a long silence as she went through the pages, moving her lips silently as she read. At last, she folded the letter and took a deep breath. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she said to her husband in a meek and apologetic voice.

“Won’t be so bad! How could it be worse?”

“Well, for one thing, the girl could be from way off somewheres else. With Bootsie being local, they likely will set up housekeeping hereabouts.”

“They better not plan on moving in
here
,” Pa Franklin said. “We got enough mouths to feed.”

Ma Franklin ignored the remark. “Maybe we need to invite Bootsie to eat with us some Saturday or Sunday,” she suggested as Kate handed Halley a coat and motioned toward the door. “I mean, now that she’s going to be part of the family. If we treat her friendly like, she might not mind living close by.”

Halley finally followed her mother outside.

For supper Kate and Halley fried the last of the fresh tenderloin. They had leftover baked potatoes, cabbage, and cornbread. Pa Franklin had just said the blessing and begun to pass the food when Goliath tuned up. Moments later there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Kate said, and opened the door to the obviously pregnant Logan woman and three of her children. The smallest child was not much more than a baby, and it was propped on the woman’s hip. The other two, Elmer, and a girl several years younger, carried lard buckets. All four were rail thin and poorly clothed for the weather. Elmer’s eyes were on the floor and his face red.

Still, he spoke up. “That dog of your’n needs to be tied up,” he said. “He’s mean.”

“Elmer’s skeered of dogs,” the Logan girl said.

“Shut up, Nellie,” said Elmer, glaring at the child until she drew back against their mother.

“I ain’t tying up my dog,” Pa Franklin answered. “He’s our protection. If you ain’t doing nothing wrong, he won’t do nothing to you.”

“Come warm yourself by the stove,” Kate said.

Ma Franklin squinted at the woman. “That you, Lillie Mae Logan?”

“Yes’m,” the woman replied. “Hit’s me.” She moved over close to the stove. Halley couldn’t help noticing that a great length of her hem was ripped out and hanging. The baby’s face was crusted with food and dirt.

Elmer and his sister followed their mother to the stove. The eyes of the baby and the girl were on the table. Except for one quick glance at Halley, Elmer kept his eyes downcast.

“Lillie Mae,” said Kate, “I went to school with you.”

“Yes’m, a long time ago. I was a year behind you.”

The woman looked older than Kate by at least ten years.

Kate looked at her father and then back to Lillie Mae. “We’ve just now sat down to eat.” She hesitated, looked at her father again, and then rushed on, “We don’t have that much, but you’d be welcome to share it.”

“We wouldn’t want to impose on nobody,” Lillie Mae said. “’Sides, I got more young’uns at home needing to eat.” She motioned to the lard buckets Elmer and his sister held. “I was just hoping I could borry corn meal and some beans. We ain’t got nary bit of food in the house.”

“That husband of yours off on a drunk again?” asked Pa Franklin.

The woman nodded with shame. Then a flash of defiance showed in her eyes. Elmer lifted his eyes and stared at Halley. There was defiance in his expression, too, and something more, a cold anger.

“I’m sorry as I can be,” Pa Franklin said. “But times are hard, and I’m an old man. I got my ailing wife, my daughter, and these young’uns to take care of. I can’t take food out of their mouths to feed the rest of the country. Your man ort to be taking care of his own.”

“What did I tell you?” Elmer said and headed for the door. His mother was right behind him.

“Wait,” said Robbie, jumping up. “You can have part of my supper.”

“Mine, too,” said Halley.

Without saying anything, Kate took the lard buckets from Elmer and his sister. Under her father’s glowering stare, she took half the cornbread and meat off the table and put them into one bucket. In the other, she put half the potatoes. Ignoring her father’s warning snorts, she scooped a number of cups of meal into one clean flour sack and several cups of dried beans into another.

“Thank you,” the woman said.

Halley was full of pride in her mother. For once, Kate had done the right thing, despite her father.

Pa Franklin stood as Lillie Mae took hold of the door latch. “Wait,” he said. “They’s talk hereabouts on sending the Ku Klux Klan to punish that man of yours for neglecting his family. I ain’t had a thing to do with it, but I hear talk. When Abner next sobers up, you might want to warn him.”

“Daddy ain’t afraid of no Ku Kluxers,” Elmer said, throwing open the door. The wind blew in and the baby wailed.

“He’ll be afraid when they’re through with him,” Pa Franklin called into the wind.

When Pa Franklin closed the door behind the Logans, he pulled the latchstring inside the room, and they all returned to the table. Ma and Pa Franklin had served their plates. There was one potato, two pieces of cornbread, and one piece of meat for Kate, Halley, and Robbie to divide. Besides that, there was only cabbage and buttermilk.

“Word’ll be out after this,” Pa Franklin said. “This’ll be the place to come for a handout. It’s a mighty comfort to have a rich daughter.”

Halley could tell by the way her mother was slumped in her chair that her burst of defiance was over. Kate spoke apologetically. “Pa, what kind of people would we be if we let little children go hungry?”

Halley spoke up with no remorse in her voice. “Jesus said if you do it for the least of these, you do it for me.”

Robbie brightened. “You preached on that two Sundays ago, Pa Franklin!”

Pa Franklin’s face reddened. “Don’t you throw scripture at me! Charity begins at home. First feed your own, and if’n you have extry,
then
you help somebody that can’t help themselves.”

Nobody said anything.

“Ada can tell you what I’m talking about,” he said, turning to his wife.

Ma Franklin did not rally to his support as she always had. In fact, she would not meet his eyes. She kept her gaze on her plate, which looked as if none of the food had been touched. “I can’t help but recollect, Webb, how you told me that when you was growing up in that big family of yours, you allus had to leave the table still hungry.”

“That’s so, but here’s the difference: we just went hungry. We never roamed the country begging food off other people’s table. And we was always
clean
.”

The meal was finished in silence. Halley looked at her empty plate and tried not to think of how hungry she still was, how much hungrier she would be before morning. Though it shamed her,
she
was also worried about how many more people might show up begging for food. Much as she hated to admit it, her grandfather was right about one thing—they couldn’t feed all the hungry people in the mountains.